The White Dragon and The Red Wolf
by MizzMarie729
Summary: Jon and Sansa have learned to grow close and tolerate the others differences. A special connection they never thought they would have. Will this connection grow more? Sansa is faced with the hardest thing in her life when she discovers she is pregnant, with her worst nightmares child. She is surprised by a surprising solution that Jon comes up with.
1. Chapter 1: Choices

Authors note: so this was just another random Idea I came up with. I will update as I can as now I will have four open stories needing to be finished. DISCLAIMER: I am not George R Martin, I do not own any of the characters, and I do not write like him. I don't read the books so don't expect it to match up, if that's a problem, or misspelled words here and there, or grammar issues please move on to someone else who has time to devote their time to correcting stuff, I don't get paid for this and I work two jobs, have to care for four horses two kids, and go to college.

Summary: Jon and Sansa have learned to grow close and tolerate the others differences. A special connection they never thought they would have. Will this connection grow more? How does Little Finger and his schemes come between the two? Sansa is faced with the hardest thing in her life when she discovers she is pregnant, with her worst nightmares child. She is surprised by a surprising solution from Jon.

Theme songs of the story (Unsteady) and (Starving by Hailee Steinfield):

Hold on, hold on to me,

Cause' Im a little unsteady. A little unsteady.

Hold on, hold on to me, cause Im a little unsteady.

A little unsteady.

Mama come here, approach appear, daddy, I'm alone… (a feeling Sansa and Jon both feel)

cause this house don't feel like home.

If you love me, don't let go. If you love me. Don't let go.

Hold, hold on, hold on to me. Cause Im a little unsteady. A little unsteady.

But if you love me… don't let go. If you love me, don't let go.

* * *

Sansa looked up from the book she was reading, a smile slowly creeping on her face as she watched Jon deeply in thought reading one their father's journals, trying to figure out what his father would do. It had only been a month since they had started picking up the pieces of their life, restoring both Winterfell as well as their own wounded souls. She couldn't deny that she wasn't happy with the outcome. She had part of her family back. The more time Sansa spent with Jon, the more she loved and hated him. She hated how kind and naive he was, how he didn't let the darkness of the world tarnish his soul the way she let her demons eat away at hers.

The first couple weeks had been awkward between them, as he was still bitter with her about her dishonesty to Jon. She refused to apologize, until she found him talking to their father's crypt. She knew at that moment Jon was lost, as lost as she was. He looked for guidance, and they couldn't help each other if they were at odds. After apologizing they had become inseparable, even if they still disagreed… regularly. She was admiring his dark curls as they fell over his forehead, his brows lowered as his lips moved silently reading to himself. She bit her lip and smirked before looking back down at her own book. Jon had looked up to see her do so, a silent smile on his face as he observed his half-sister.

"Can I help you?" Sansa smiled still staring at her book, or atleast pretending to stare.

"I was going to ask you the same?" Jon let out a half smile before looking down at his book.

"Nothing, your highness," she joked turning the page of her book.

"You really shouldn't tease the King you know?" Jon glanced up at Sansa over his book. She made him feel like he wasn't alone in the world, like when he had Sam who he hadn't heard from yet. It was almost like she was Ygritte and Sam combined, she was pretty to look at and easy to joke with when she wasn't in a mood.

"Bad for the health you think?" Sansa laid the book flat in her lap.

"Aye, it is," Jon nodded, faking a grim look on his face.

"Well then, it's my duty to inform my King he should get his head examined…" she leaned back and watched him look at her in confusion, "it's getting a little big."

"Is it now?" Jon said tossing his book at his half-sister. Sansa faked a shocked look.

"Shouldn't you be writing laws or being of use?" she said throwing the book back at him. He jumped up making her jump up as well, he had chased her around the table, easily catching her in his long arms. She laughed as he pulled her against him and span as if they were little kids, as they should have as kids. For some reason the sound of her laughter made his heart start to thump harder. She playfully hit him in the arm, "Jon Snow! You stop it! You're acting like a child!"

"Am I?" he laughed as he stopped the twirling, one arm still around her as she turned to face him. They both looked at each other, heavy in breath, smiles on their face slowly fading as they looked at each other. Jon cleared his throat and stepped back. Sansa tried to smile, but was stopped when she felt a sharp pain in her stomach, causing her hand to grab her stomach as she stumbled sideways grasping the table for support, "Sansa?"

"I'm fine," Sansa said as he rushed to her side, concern on her face.

"Did I hurt you?" Jon asked now at her side, grabbing her elbow to support her.

"I'm Fine, Jon," Sansa said not looking at him. She backed away her mind racing.

"Sansa your-"

"I said I'm Fine!" She snapped pushing past him heading for the door, "don't you have important letters to get to or something."

Jon stood there looking at the door Sansa had just run through. He knew she had moments where she would get upset, but this seemed different. He thought they had worked past their differences, but maybe he was pushing too hard to be close to her. He let out a huge smile before he walked to finish reading through the books his father left behind to guide Robb when he took over. He wished Robb was the one in his place, which caused him to wonder if him and Sansa would be this close had it been Robb who she found.

"Milord," a servant walked in after knocking, waking Jon from his sleep Jon looked wearily at him but listened eagerly as he told him of Bran's arrival. Jon didn't even let him finish before taking off to find his little brother.

When Jon found Bran, he took him deep into a relieved hug, but then quickly ushered him off to be fed and cared for not letting Bran get a word in. After many attempt Bran managed to hush Jon long enough to tell him of what happened. Jon was in disbelief not wanting to think it true, so he shrugged it off as delusion and sent for him to be looked after. Bran knew that Jon needed time to process and would discuss it later. He simply requested that he see Sansa, and so Jon took off to search for her. Jon found Sansa sitting out on a frozen rock bench, a large green cloak keeping her warm as she stared at the beautiful white scenery.

For a moment, he was taken back, more so by the fact he was stunned by her. He had caught himself many times in the past month and half admiring her beauty, sometimes wondering things he shouldn't but he always managed to regain his thoughts. Sometimes he had even compared her to Ygritte, and that usually left him hurt. Her red hair seemed to glow dark and wild like fire, her blue eyes reflecting the sun that shown that day. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like… to love someone like her, and to be loved back. Jon shook the thought away and chalked it up to being shocked from Bran.

"Sansa," he called out. She quickly looked at him and quickly turned away, for a moment he thought he saw tears in her eyes, "are you alright?"

"If you're seeking an apology, I have none to give," Sansa stood up trying to walk away. Jon was quick, his boots digging into the snow as he jogged to her, grabbing her arm to stop her.

"What is going on with you?" his hands grasped her arms holding her in place.

"Jon Snow, unhand me this moment," she stomped angrily, "this is undignified."

"Then give me an answer, Sansa," he said angrily, "did I do something to hurt you? Did I make you uncomfortable? Or do you simply wish to be rid of me?"

"No, to all of it Jon," she managed to break free of his grasp, "I do not wish to see you right now, that is all."

"Well, that's not an acceptable answer," Jon crossed his arms, "I want an answer."

"Is that a demand from my King?" Sansa snapped.

"No, it's a request from your brother," he snapped back.

"Half-brother," she said softly turning around. Jon went still, his face freezing, his heart thumping hard.

"So we are back to this then?" Jon asked trying to hold the anger in, "I thought we were past this…"

"You were wrong," Sansa tried to lie, "maybe you should just send me away."

"Send you away?" Jon asked confused, "because of a fight?"

"Because you're not my King, I won't be told what to do by a Bastard," Sansa said trying hard to get the words out.

"Is it because you think you should be in charge? I thought you didn't want to? How many times you told me you didn't need to be King in the North?" Jon said sarcastically, his eyes dark as he stepped towards her.

"Maybe, so you should send me away," Sansa said breathing heavily, trying to keep the tears from her eyes and her voice.

"You're not going anywhere," Jon said stepping towards her.

"You don't own me," Sansa said angrily, shoving him even though it didn't move him at all, "are you going to chain me up like a dog?"

"I'm not him, I'm not Ramsay," Jon said grabbing her hands. She tried to fight him. Jon was taken back when she looked up at him and stopped fighting him, she felt something stir inside of her… something she had been ignoring for a while now. Something she was ashamed of that she chalked up to emotions. She tried to say something but couldn't get it out. For a moment, he wasn't her brother, he was something more… and without thinking she stood up on her toes and her lips met his. Jon was caught by surprise, even more so when his hands released hers and were cradling her face. Jon broke the kiss, looking into her eyes before stumbling back, "I'm sorry."

"Jon," Sansa said trying to get more words to come out, she was as shocked as much as he was.

"I'm… I'm not sending you away," Jon said looking at her as he stepped backwards.

"Please," she begged, desperation dripping from her lips and her eyes.

"I can't," he said his brows furrowing as the pain crossed his face. She realized at that moment he had had the similar thoughts that unwantedly popped up, "I won't."

"I hate you!" She yelled angrily and grabbed snow quickly throwing a ball of it at him. It hit him in the back as he turned. Another one hit him again. Jon turned around walking fast towards her, she could see in his face he was angry. She stepped backwards nervously, and as she fell he grabbed her but she dragged him down with her. Sansa looked up at Jon who had her pinned to the ground, he looked at her.

"You don't hate me," he said looking down at her.

"I don't?" she asked swallowing nervously, her eyes going to his mouth. That did not go unnoticed.

"You don't," he said softly, his eyes not leaving hers.

"Why not?" she breathed nervously her arms pinned in the snow by his large hands.

"You're my family," he said still looking at her, but there was something different in his eyes. A fire she had only seen in men who desired something, "I don't own you, but your mine."

"Jon," she said in shock, "you don't want me here…"

"Why do you want me to send you away so badly? Do you really hate me?" he asked, his face only inches from hers. How could he feel this way about anyone who was his family? Something burned through him, he wanted things he knew he shouldn't.

"I don't…" Sansa tried to speak but she had to swallow nervously, as her eyes kept going to his lips. She thought she'd never want another man to touch her again, but a part of her kept wanting him to kiss her.

"What's wrong Sansa? We had promised no more lies, we promised to have each other's backs," he said reminding her of a pact they had made one night sitting in front of a warm fire after they had made up.

"I'm pregnant," she said biting her lip as the tears rushed to her eyes. Jon watched her for a moment before sitting up.

"What?" he asked as she propped herself up on her elbows.

"I don't know what to do," she said looking at him with desperation, "what will happen to me when they find out I carry his child?"

"No…" he said as he rested his forehead in both hands. Sansa sat all the way up and hugged her knees.

"It's not like I had a choice," Sansa said not looking at Jon, he realized then what his reaction must have seemed to her.

"Fuck!" Jon hit the ground repeatedly startling Sansa, reminding her of the day he was beating Ramsay for what he had done to her and Rickon.

"I hate that I love you Jon, I could never put anyone else above you. But I love you, and I hate you because you remind me of what I can't have," Sansa said trying to hold back her tears. She stood up dusting the snow from her dress, "you get to pick a wife, have children with someone you love. I don't get to do that, no one will want me now, I am of no use to you and you should send me away. I will pack at once, I have a place at the Vail…"

"With that fancy prick Little Finger?" Jon spat standing up himself, angry for a reason he couldn't understand, "is that really where you want to go? Where you would rather be?!"

"Jon," Sansa said shocked and hurt by what he was saying. Her hurt quickly turned to anger and she turned around to leave him, he did not follow her this time. He couldn't help but be confused, more confused than ever before. When Jon finally returned to the castle after sitting out many hours in thought of what was happening. He visited with Bran as he received an important message from Sir Davos who informed him the Dragon queen requested his presence in Dragon stone where her ships finally landed. This meant a long journey, it meant leaving Sansa alone.

Jon found Sansa's room and knocked gently. He didn't hear anything so he opened anyways to find Sansa sleeping on her bed. Had she cried herself to sleep because of him? Or had she gone to sleep angry and planning her revenge? He could never tell with her. She was so much like her mother but at times he saw their… her father in him. After talking with Bran some more he began to listen to what was being said, which meant that his whole life was a lie. Strangely all he wanted to do was tell his best friend, to tell Sansa… to have her tell him what he should do.

"Sansa," he whispered startling her awake. Sansa looked up at him before sitting up.

"What are you doing here?" she asked angrily, "I need time…"

"I don't have time," he said taking her hand, "do you really want to marry again?"

"What?"

"You said no one would want you, that I had a choice and now you don't," he said looking down at her, "do you really want a husband? What do you want?"

"I want safety, Jon. I want to go somewhere that no one knows Ramsay, who will mock and demonize the child within me. I don't want to look at my child every day and remember the monster that created him or her. I don't ever want to be anyone's property again," Sansa said sitting up, her now down hair flowing all around her as if she was lit with flames, "you don't have to pretend to care about what I want Jon, send me away, keep me here to be humiliated… you're the king."

"Then be a _Queen,_ Sansa, the one you were born to be," he said looking deep into her eyes. Before she could ask him what he meant he continued, "marry me."

"Have you lost your mind? Jon?" She asked her face scrunching up in confusion.

"You will never be safer with anyone then you would me, you would never have to worry about anyone owning you or making their property. You would be free to be queen of the north," he said giving her a weak smile, "you'd never have to worry about someone forcing you to be a wife, to taking to bed or baring children."

"Jon?" she asked taken back, "but I am already…"

"Exactly, if we saw the child is mine, then you already did your duty providing an heir. Think of it Sansa, no one would suspect that the child is Ramsay's. I will raise the child as my own, and you can continue to be Sansa my friend…"

"Your sister!" Sansa sarcastically.

"It turns out I am not your brother after all," Jon said looking away, "Bran returned from beyond the wall. It turns out I am the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen."

"So you're my cousin?" she asked looking down also, "our grandparents were cousins."

"No one will think anything of it, and it would solidify my claim that much more with a Stark wife," Jon tried to smile. Sansa slowly looked up at him.

"Why would you give it all up for me?" Sansa asked suspiciously.

"Because you're my family, Sansa," he said smiling at her again, "besides you already boss me around and nag at me like a wife. Look at it from a political stand point. It's in both our interest."

"Are you sure about this?" she asked biting her lip as she swiped her hair to the side.

"Absolutely," he said squeezing her hand, "will you marry me?"

"I will," Sansa said unsure of herself before a smile rose to her face and she jumped into his arms, "Thank you Jon!"

"Of course, anything for you," he said holding her tight, inhaling the sweet smell of her hair, "there is one other small issue. I have to leave for Dragonstone in 3 nights."

"Why?" she asked hesitantly, "you can't leave."

"Already telling me what to do?" he joked making her smack him gently with the back of her hand, "I must, I need dragon glass to defeat the enemy. We can either marry now or when I return?"

"The sooner the better, it's been hard hiding my pregnancy," she said placing her hand on her swollen belly.

"The night before I leave then we shall be wed," he said kissing her hand, "And then you are free Sansa, I swear it."

"I never thought marriage would be what could free me," she said in a tone of disbelief as she looks up at him with a smile, "thank you Jon. Truly."

"I could never send you away, you know," he said kissing her forehead before standing up.

"I never really wanted to leave, I belong wherever you are," she said nodding at him, a look in her eye that told him she meant it. He smiled a big smile and nodded before walking out, his boots echoing off her floor as he stopped at the door to look back for a second at the beautiful goddess who peered at him with a smile from her bed. He wondered how he could marry her and make himself not want to touch her as well. He just shook the thought from his mind as he closed the door behind him.

Authors note:

REVIEWS PLEASE. KIND REVIEWS. NOTHING NASTY OR NAGGING. THANK YOU 3


	2. Chapter 2: Unsteady

Chapter 2: Unsteady

Sansa paced in her room unable to gather her thoughts from the night before. She knew Jon to be loyal and honorable without reason, but this was huge. What he was doing for her was a huge sacrifice. She could still feel the sparks of ember in his dark eye, the way they held strong and sure… even though her confidence in his plan waivered. She could see the political aspect of this union, a Stark Targaryen union would benefit not only Winterfell and the North, but also the South should he want to take it.

Sansa was dressed to the best of her ability, trying to hide the small swollen bump on her abdomen. She smoothed out her dress, gently braided her hair to the side, and watched herself as she turned side to side in her large mirror. She began to shake with nerves, she would have to face Jon, and they would have to announce their union. He seemed so sure of himself, of course he did, he was Jon… honorable. He would do anything for the ones he cared about, he would fight to the end to do what was right… _that's just Jon. My Jon? I guess he will be if we are married._

Sansa's mind ran wild. She wasn't sure how she really felt about Jon, she knew she watched him when he wasn't looking, she relied on him when she needed strength, more than naught he frustrated her and sometimes made her feel like her view was unimportant. It was usually when he was passionate about something. She combed her hair to the side staring at herself in the mirror. She could see the scars in her eyes, the damage left behind, did Jon really deserve that baggage when he had his own? Could she really ask Jon to give up his freedom for her? She who tried hard to be the new Sansa, the strong one, the one who could play the game alongside the others, and not the naive little girl who threw tantrums. Manipulation was all she knew, it was the tarnishing on her soul. Could she change this to be the Queen Winterfell deserved, ruling beside someone like Jon. Someone she knew she could break if she tried, someone she could break if Little Finger could get inside her head despite the way she managed to avoid his manipulation.

He had been away at the Vale but was due back soon, and sure enough he would be displeased with her for marrying Jon. For taking a seat on a throne that didn't have him beside her, a crown upon his head, and the world burning at his feet. Little Fingers soul was as tarnished and destructive as her own, and that's why his power of words over her scared her… Jon though damaged, remained more purity and belief in mankind then she really had. There was a battle inside of her, the Dark Sansa and the Light Sansa.

The Sansa that wanted to watch Jon succeed, to be better the Cersei, the Sansa that didn't want to watch the world burn for what it had done to her. The Sansa Jon saw in her… the one who she would catch his eyes lingering on, sometimes proud and sometimes… sometimes almost longing. Then there was the Sansa who was dark and distorted, who wanted to see the world turned to ash, to get her revenge, the one that loved watching Ramsay torn apart… the one that wanted to remove the child from within her and let it die slowly if just to punish Ramsay that much more. Sansa hated how twisted that side of her was, but it also was what she clung to for safety. It was as if little naive Sansa was ripped into two people, Sansa and Dark Sansa.

"Pull yourself together Sansa," she said out loud as she looked deep into the mirror, looking at the shell that perfectly packaged the darkness within, but she could also see the sparks of hope and the glimmers of the Sansa Jon had encouraged to rebirth from the ashes of her soul, "it's not too late to be who I am meant to be, who my mother and father would be proud of. I am a Stark after all."

Sansa smoothed he dress down once more before turning to leave her room, she was supposed to meet with Jon and the other council members in Jon's study. Sansa stood tall, taking full length of each step her long legs provided her, her heart raced so wildly she feared it would spring from her chest, but if you looked at Sansa at that moment you could not tell that she was afraid. She stood tall and stoic like a true Stark. What if Jon changed his mind? She wondered as she tried to ignore the sound of her feet echoing through the halls, his door finally within reach. Sansa held her hand out for a moment, fighting the temptation to turn back and change her mind. Her hand shook as it stayed frozen in place, there was no turning back. _Jon is Jon, he'll take care of me. He'll take care of us,_ she tried to rationalize with herself.

"Sansa," Jon said opening the door, her eyes rushed up to see him but words faltered to greet him, "are you okay?"

"I…" Sansa stuttered still frozen, but before she could say anything else he took her hand in his.

"You'll be fine," he said, his eyes deeply embedding in her own, reading her thoughts. His face was as stoic and stiff as hers as they held back their own thoughts and worries.

"I'm a little unsteady," she said in a soft voice, her eyes stinging with the threat of tears.

"I've got you," he said softly so only she could hear as he squeezed her hand.

"I know," she nodded swallowing, her breathing slowly, her eyes on his, "I know you do. Hold on to me?"

"Aye," he smiled a small gentle one, the kind she only saw from Jon. The kind she knew to be sincere, "always. Shall we?"

"Yes," she said after pausing for a moment, her grip on his hand tightening with surety. All doubt washing away with his presence.

They took their seats beside one another, the loud buzz of quick wordless voices slowly dying down, all eyes now on Jon Snow and Sansa Stark. The King of the North and The Wardeness of Winterfell, The White Dragon and The Red Wolf united: as one. They sat tall, any insecurities or fears they felt were not visible on the regal Starks.

"Yes, it is true," Jon said addressing what he knew the counsel was worried about, "the rumor of my true heritage, we've sent for Howland Reed to appear and officially confirm what my brother has told me. I am the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark."

"So you are not the true son of Eddard Stark?" one of the men scoffed obviously ready to challenge his place as their king.

"Aye, I am not, my cousin Bran Stark is the last remaining heir Stark," Jon said strong, and unwavering, Sansa slipped her hand under the table to grab Jon's hand, the way she had done in the past when she knew he was faced with challenges that were of large scale. She was surprised to find his hand shaking, unsteady, and so she squeezed it tight looking over to him, his gaze meeting hers as he waited to hear the loud buzz of protest buzz down.

"He is still by blood a Stark," Sansa spoke up, her eyes moving from Jon's to the crowd of people who swore to back Jon but were ready to turn their backs upon him, "and he is none the less our King in the North. He rushed into the face of battle like a true Stark, like a true Northman, unlike the sniveling cowards who stood in their homes while he fought to reunite the North and put it back to the way it was."

"Sansa," Jon said softly, surprised in the anger he saw fueling the fire in her eyes. She was fierce as a wolf, bold and strong. He could see more than ever she was the rightful heir and Queen the North needed.

"Scuse me milady, we do not look blindly upon the things Jon…"

"KING Jon," Sansa corrected, sitting straight and tall, her face stoic yet fierce and at that moment no one could deny she had Ned Starks blood for they saw him sitting there before him in the form of his daughter.

"Yes, milady," he said bowing his head respectfully, as they all admired the fierce beauty of the woman in front of them, her green dress hidden by a dark cape with red wolf fur on the hood keeping her warm, helping her hide what she wanted the world to not see, "even if we still proclaim him as rightful King, the rest of the North may not follow."

"We have come to the possible conclusion ourselves," Sansa said looking over to Jon, she wanted to say the words, but she was scared. He squeezed her hand, his face straight and unwavering of emotion. The Jon she knew, so serious, always serious.

"Aye," Jon swallowed as he watched her before turning to the council, "we plan to unite the North through Marriage."

"Marriage?" one of the other men asked, confused, "to a Northern Lords Daughter?"

"No," Jon shook his head, his hand let go of Sansa's so that he could lace his fingers through hers.

"Ours," Sansa after taking a deep breath and releasing.

"Sansa and I will marry and unite the houses as my mother and father before me tried to do, before the Baratheon rebellion stole their lives," Jon said grateful Sansa had not rejected his hand. Grateful she was there beside him willing to do this.

"We need Jon," Sansa said loudly over the Lords who talked to each other, some concerned and some excited. Sansa ignored them and looked to Jon once more, she did not smile but he could feel the affection in her gaze as she spoke, "Without him leading us we are lost, the North has known no loyalty or strength like they have as Jon Snow. They now have the power and might of the Targaryen and the Loyalty and bravery of the Stark to lead them to a better life. A safe life."

"Thank you," Jon whispered and kissed her cheek, making Sansa's cheek turn red.

"Who can say no to the Red Wolf, the daughter of Ned Stark and Catelyn Stark, the Queen of the North!" One of the men shouted riling up his fellow lords as they began to see the advantage of a union between Jon and Sansa, it would seem as they never saw them as siblings anymore then they had their selves. Sansa let out a sigh of relief as her shoulders slouched slightly, revealing to Jon she had been tense until that moment. After the meeting was over and the Lords left to prepare their letters to their families to attend the wedding, Jon and Sansa quickly left the room, his hand grabbing hers again as he jogged down the hall dragging her laughing behind him.

"Jon, you mad man," she laughed as he dragged her, his body buzzing sending the electricity to her through his hand. He quickly opened the room door to his private study pulling her in. She was surprised when he pulled her into his arms lifting her from his feet and spinning.

"Sansa! You were brilliant!" he said laughing as he finally dropped her back on her feet, both panting frantically, his hands on her waist as he looked down at her. Her smile was the first to fade, her chest heaving deeply with her heavy breath as her eyes wondered to his lips. His smile slowly faded too, something in his eyes changing, the warmth of her skin radiating to his.

"Jon," she said softly not sure what else to say. He lowered his head about to kiss her when he realized what he was doing and quickly released her.

"I'm sorry," he said clearing his throat, "thank you, Sansa. I wasn't as prepared for in there as I thought I was. When it comes to metal flying at me I am perfectly clear and capable, but get high Lords picking my flaws apart I find myself needing something extra."

"It was nothing," Sansa placing her hands behind her back and looking at the floor, "Thank you as well."

"Aye," Jon smiled before sitting down.

"I should go, it would appear I have a wedding to appear," Sansa said, her heart still racing, driving her insane as she couldn't figure out why he was having that effect on her.

"Of course," Jon nodded and with his hand jokingly dismissing her.

"I'll see you later though, wont I?" Sansa stopped at the door turning to look at him as she asked. A smile peaked as he nodded.

"Aye, you shall," he said watching her as her face dropped to the floor to hide the redness creeping on and he continued to watch her as she left the room his eyes lingering on the door deep in thought.


End file.
